The Colonel Vs The Parson's Fight
by pastorannie
Summary: The Colonel seems to know C.I.A. Decker before, but where exactly have they met? And what has that to do with a small town pastor?
1. Chapter 1

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 1

Set somewhere in the alternative universe early in the Colonel and the Parson's dating

Colonel John Casey was moving rapidly, quietly up behind the Chinese weapons dealer, who currently had Chuck Bartowski, the Intersect, in a tight choke hold. The large Asian begin to press Chuck's neck, and the young man was gasping frantically, his feet flying out from under him, his hands trying to break Ling Ho's tight hold. Sarah Walker had her gun drawn, facing Ho, trying to get a head shot off. But her frustration was only magnified by the fact that Ho kept shifting his and Chuck's body, back and forth, his lips repeating over and over, "這是一次報復。這是一次報復』["This is the time for revenge. This is the time for revenge."] With his left arm, Ho reached out, and a 5 inch stiletto snapped out of his arm holster and he pressed it against Chuck's throbbing neck vein. Chuck tried desperately to flash on anything to help himself, but the tranquilizer Ho had used on him earlier was befuddling his mind, and the computer in it was refusing to reboot. Black spots were rapidly descending on Chuck's vision, and he mouthed carefully to Sarah, " I love you." His body slowly relaxed into Ho's arms, and the weight of the unconscious man pulled Ho's arm down enough that Sarah was ready. However, her eyes flicked just once toward Casey, and Ho dropped Chuck, whirled around and sent the stiletto flying through the air. Both Casey and Sarah fired, and the Chinese's head was blown to bits, blood and brain matter splattering over Chuck's still body. Sarah bent down to Chuck, and checked his pulse. It was then she spotted Casey, bent over, his right leg on the ground, his left bent, trying to lift his large body. John's face was completely white, and as he stared down, his left hand was around the hilt of the knife now buried in his upper abdomen. Blood was spewing from the wound, and he swayed like a half hewed tree, a mixture of deep pain and disbelief in his eyes.

"Walker..." John moaned loudly, and rolled to his right side to the ground, his Sig Saur hitting the warehouse pavement with a loud clatter. He tried to reach out to Chuck, and he dragged himself slowly to check on his friend, and asset. Sarah was already on the cell calling 911, and she knelt down to stem the flow of Casey's blood, now joining the puddle rapidly growing from Ho's body. "Bartowski..." John reached once more out and felt for Chuck's pulse, but as he moved, his entire body shuddered. He pulled himself up in a ball, and whispered to Sarah..."poison. There's poison...I can taste it..." He began to shake, and Sarah held his right hand tightly.

"John, the aid car is coming. Hang in there. Chuck is okay. Don't worry. I won't leave you." Sarah was crying softly, as she watched the man she respected deeply, convulse again. Over and over, she muttered the words, trying to convince herself that Casey was all right. Suddenly, the Colonel arched back, his hands going to his chest, tearing at his shirt, as he gasped for breath.

"Heart...feels like exploding...Dear God, Sarah...Tell Parson..." Another wave of pain clutched his body, his groans exploding into screams of pain. Sarah was frantically trying to listen for sirens, and each second that ticked by, she saw the Colonel writhing in agony. He pulled himself closer to her, and with one large breath, he groaned out, "Tell Annie...First Corine.." another spasm, he clutching his chest, "First Corinthians...Thirteen." His eyes rolled back into his head, and his hand fell from her blouse.

"John? John? Dear God, don't die on me, Colonel." She bent over, ear pressed to his chest, but she heard no heartbeat. She touched his neck, searching for the familiar double beating, but it was not there. She begin CPR, pressing hard down on his heart, counting loudly the number of chest compressions, and breathing deeply into the Colonel's mouth. She only felt the paramedics had arrived when they literally had to tear her away from John, trying to convince her that they would take over. She crawled back to Chuck, and hands bloodied with AB negative blood, she begin to caress Chuck's face, astonished at the peaceful look he had. Once again the paramedics pulled her away to get information on both men. They had revived Casey with a defibrillator, but the erratic beeping on the heart monitor did nothing to calm her. Chuck was also loaded up in a second aide car, and the driver walked over to Sarah and asked, "Miss, where to?" He reached out to touch her, to try and get her out of the daze she seemed to be in, but she jerked away from his hand, her face confused.

She saw his mouth talking, but she heard none of the words. Her mind was filled with Chuck, his frantic movements trying to get away from Ho. The bullets flying, and Ho's head exploding, and the sickening realization that her own hesitation to shoot Ho may have indeed cost the life of the best spy partner she ever had.

Please leave some comments, cuts, kudos or cookies below. Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 2

Ten years ago...a young major in the Marine Corps is leading his battalion infiltrating the hillsides of Iraq.

"Major, we have confirmed contact with Alpha 6-Infantry. Arrival in 10." The radio tech was on his hands and knees whispering to the commanding officer next to him. The Major nodded once, and then checked his watch to see how close the invasion was to begin. They had only ten more minutes to make sure all of the troops were in position around the Iraqi settlement. British Intel had identified at least three top radical terrorists stationed in the town, and if the United Nations troops could captured one or all three Iraqis, there was great hope that other secret enclaves of terrorists would be also discovered nearby. Major John Casey stared carefully through his binoculars, and was pleased to see his men in perfect position. They only waited on his signal, and he relied on his radio man, Corporal Jimbo Levinston, to help him make sure the rest of the British and French troops were ready. Radio talk was to a minimum, and in Casey's ear bud there was only silence. Softly, a voice with an English accent softly whispered in Casey's ear, "Major, the Eagle is in Position." Then, another voice, this time tinged with a soft French roll, also whispered, "Major, the Rooster is in position." Casey looked at Levinston for full confirmation and then in the distance, several choppers were coming over the horizon. Casey glanced up quickly, and then spoke into his head microphone and nodded at Levinston to broadcast.

"On my count, people. Look sharp, remember don't be pulled away alone. All right, on my count. Five," Major Casey checked his pistol and holstered it. He brought up his M16 assault rifle to his shoulder, and continued counting precisely, "Four, three, two," he rose up and begin moving toward the settlement. All around him, Coalition armed forces were moving quickly, silently, watching, rifles up, eyes alert. Suddenly, the Major yelled, "Now!" And the entire settlement came alive with men and women running everywhere, choppers over head picking off the armed rebels who were pouring out of the stone houses. Casey rolled behind a group of large oil barrels, and watched Levinston creeping up behind him. He noticed the young man was sweating profusely, his hands shaking as he communicated the orders that Casey was commanding to the Coalition. Suddenly, a lone rebel picked off Levinston, who flew backwards, his neck half blown away. Casey popped up, and before the rebel could take in one more breath, Casey's bullet found its mark. The Major crept around and watched carefully a large, square building where the most commotion was occurring. He guessed the building was the headquarters, and he continued to creep around to the back of the house. The Coalition was continuing to move successfully from house to house, either gathering up the terrorists, or killing them. In the Major's ear, the British officer whispered, "John, confirm position." The Marine grunted loudly, and spoke carefully, "Back door, Colonel. Care to join me?" The Colonel laughed lightly in his ear, and then a flash of a body moved within 3 feet of the American. Casey nodded at his British friend, Colonel Raymond Knight, and the two men moved together toward the door. As the Colonel nodded, Casey reared up and kicked the door in. Both men had the rifles ready and as they entered they began spraying the room with bullets. Four terrorists were crouching behind various pieces of furniture, and two were killed by Casey and Knight. Two others began to engage them in hand to hand combat, and the Colonel went down when one of the rebels plunged a knife in the Colonel's leg. Casey grabbed him by the nape of his uniform and dragged him back behind the busted back door.

The Colonel was gasping at the pain, but he already had a tourniquet above the wound and his pistol was ready for the two rebels who were still in the building. Casey and Knight heard gunshots from the front of the house, and then there was only silence. Suddenly, the lone rebel burst through the door, tripping over the legs of Major Casey. The Marine and the Arab wrestled over and over in the dirt, and then a loud pistol shot was heard. The rebel's head went up, and his black eyes so full of hate, widened and stared at the Major. Then the rebel's body relaxed and Casey was able to throw the body away from his, the rebel's dead eyes still staring up at the Iraqi sun. The Marine leaned down and helped the Colonel up, pulling his arm around Casey's neck. The two men ran as quick as Knight's wound would allow them, straight toward the chopper that had set down. The pilot slid open the door to help get the British officer in.

"Go, Captain, Go!" Casey looked up at the face of the pilot and then grinned widely. "Man, good to see you Chad. Now get him out of here!"

Captain Chad Shelten yelled at his twin brother. "Major, aren't you coming?" Casey shook his head vehemently, and shouted over the noise of the rotors.

"Need to go clean up, Chad. Take Ray in to the field hospital and come back for me, all right?" The Major already had turned away, his rifle up and ready for action. Shelten gazed after him, shaking his head, but obeyed his orders, and lifted the officer and other wounded soldiers up and away to safety.

Casey met up with the rest of the Coalition forces, and there had been only one casualty- Corporal Levinston. Casey made sure the rest of the teams were safe and that the prisoners were secured and ready to be trucked to prison camps. He bent over Levinston's body, and closed the young man's eyes. His heart was saddened at the senseless killing of this Iowan farmer's son, for the soldier from the Midwest had been a loyal, fun loving, geeky kind of kid. Casey took off his jacket, and wrapped Levinston's body with it, and then gently carried the boy in his arms toward where Shelten would return with his chopper. He already was forming what he would say in the letter home to Levinston's parents, and he was not paying attention to the fact that one more rebel had Casey smack dab in the cross hairs of the Chinese made rifle. Suddenly, a crack of a shot reverberated in the streets of the settlement, and Casey felt a stab of red, hot pain in his lower back. He stumbled, trying not to drop the boy's body, but he continued staggering toward the landing area. Again, a shot rang out, and Casey's left calf felt the bullet. This time Casey went down, along with the boy, and the Marine's breath was knocked out of him. He twisted his body, and pulled out his pistol from the back of his waistband. He didn't wait, but pulled the trigger twice, aiming down the street, right at the flash of metal he saw. He heard a sharp cry and then there was silence again. The rotors of a chopper were again overhead, and Casey began praying that it was Chad, returning to pick them up. The chopper a lit down, and before Casey could pass out, strong hands were pulling the boy's body away and trying to stop the flow of blood from Casey's wounds. A familiar voice was growling in his ear, and he hissed at the pain the hands were inflicting.

"Dear Lord, John, I'm gone for 20 minutes and you get yourself shot, not once, but twice. Idiot." Shelten was pulling Casey up and dragging his twin toward the safety of the chopper. He continued the onslaught of nagging, with several curses punctuating his speech. John tried to look at his brother, but the darkness was threatening the loss of his consciousness. However, Chad kept him awake, by shaking him, handling roughly and finally, throwing him into the back of the chopper. Chad hopped in and grabbed the first aid kit. He rolled John over on his side, and shot his back with a pain killer and antibiotic. He packed the bullet wound as best he could, and then ripped John's uniform pant leg up to his crotch and checked the calf wound. The bullet had graced the calf deeply but had entered and exited thoroughly.

"God, you are such a numbnut, brother." Shelten wrapped the wound in the leg tightly. "The Corporal. Did you get the boy?" John reared up to check if there was anyone else in the chopper but Chad shook his head. Casey grabbed Chad's shirt and pulled him down. "Captain, you will go get that boy's body. " He growled the order, and did not release his brother's shirt until Chad nodded. Once Chad nodded, Casey laid his head down, and let the pain overtake him. The next he knew, Shelten had dumped Levinston next to Casey, and climbed back into the cockpit. Casey rolled slowly over, and looked at the curly haired young boy laying dead beside him. He laid his hand on the boy's chest, and prayed the only prayer he remembered: _"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven..." _Casey began to loose consciousness, and then he heard Chad praying the rest of the prayer, _"Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive our trespasses, and lead us not into temptation_ [especially Major John Casey] _for Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory forever. Amen" _Chad sighed loudly and looked over at his shoulder at his passed out brother. "Especially Major John Casey, God."

The hardened face on the man known as Decker was currently reading the report written up by Colonel Raymond Knight. He noted Knight's briefing of one Major John Casey's acts of heroism at the take down of the insurrectionist's settlements, but that made him only angrier. He threw the dossier on his desk and rubbed his eyes with his hands. How in the world had he gotten himself in the middle of selling Chinese weapons to the Iraqis? And now, Major John Casey's medic had pulled a bullet out of his back that was distinctively from the make and model of the very rifle Decker had brokered with the Chinese dealer named Ling Ho. Decker knew he needed to move carefully and covertly, before he and his under the table dealings were discovered. But first, this Major Casey had to dealt with. No one need know beyond Decker what kind of bullet the Marine took. And maybe, not only would the bullet disappear but this "heroic" Marine named Casey would, too.

Ah, the plot thickens and there is much need for feedback. See below? Please do not be covert in your opinions. I would enjoy your feedback, gripes and all.


	3. Chapter 3

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 3

Recap: Year: 1991 Major John Casey is recovering from a skirmish in a Iraqi rebel settlement when he is introduced to an agent from the Central Intelligence Agency, Rodney Decker. His meeting only confirms the mistrust Casey has for the spook organization, and its' so called special agents.

"Major, pick up your left leg from the thigh muscle, not from your foot." The physical therapist barked out the order, as she watched the tall man try to slide his left leg ahead, rather than step. He glared at her, narrowing his eyes, but he lifted his entire leg up to step ahead, as he grasped the parallel bars on each side of his body. The p.t. only grinned wider when he grumbled, "sadist" but he continued to step slowly forward, until the end of the bars.

"Turn around and come back to me." She ordered again, and wrote a few notes down on her clip board. She watched him carefully, as his face contorted in the effort to turn a 180 from where he was, and when he faced her, a small grin played on his handsome face. He plodded carefully toward her, each time lifting his leg, each time grimacing at the sharp pain in his back, and calf muscle.

"Major, loosen your grip on the bars, and try stepping on your own." The p.t. watched the Marine pull himself up to his full 6'4" height, and he slowly released his hold. He seemed to wobble a little, but he bravely took a step with his right, and then his left leg. He was perspiring heavily, and his t shirt and sweat pants were soaked in his sweat, but he only gritted his teeth and continued four more steps to his physical therapist. Once there, he stood at attention, and saluted her smartly, and then seemed to melt down onto the bars.

"Smart s.o.b., Major. Whoo, grab the bars. I got you." Carol, the physical therapist, was instantly at his side, and he grunted his thanks when she propped him up by her body, and grabbed the back of his waist band of the sweat pants. Together, they slowly walked him to his wheelchair, but just as he was going to sit, someone over in the far, darkened corner began to rudely, and slowly clap.

2 men in black suits, white shirts, and black ties, stepped out into the room, and one of them continued to clap.

"Major Casey, I presume. I would like a few minutes of your time." The man who spoke removed his dark glasses and held his hand out for Casey to shake. The Marine instantly took a dislike to the man, and only continued to stand there with Carol by his side, staring at the suit.

"Well, yes, I see…perhaps you would feel more comfortable, Major, in your wheelchair?" The man waved to Casey's chair, but the Marine only growled, "no," and continued to stand, daring the man. Carol tightened her grip on the soldier, and tried to gauge his pain level by the shaking in his overworked muscles. Casey thanked her silently for he was not going to back down from the men in front of him, and the two of them begin to slowly plod a few steps away from the suits.

"My name is Decker and I represent a security organization that is interested in recruiting you for our special ops program, Major Casey." The man's voice has a distinctive dark edge to it as he continued. "I do not think it would be to your best interest if you did not listen to my proposition. I suggest you send your therapist away, now, soldier, and we can talk about this further."

Casey stopped instantly, and he slowly turned around, Carol plastered right by his side. He leaned heavily on her, his left arm tightened on her waist, and he glanced down at her, and shook his head no.

"What would the C.I.A. want with me, Decker?" Casey glared once more at Decker, and smirked when a look of total surprise graced Decker's face. The agent recovered quickly, but he glanced at the other agent, and then opened his suit jacket, took out his gun and began to wipe it down with a handkerchief. Carol gasped softly, but Casey only held her closer, and tighter.

"We need a soldier to infiltrate that terrorist cell in the area that you and your men raided successfully last month. We have intel that a Chinese connection was supplying them with the rifles that were used by the terrorists. I understand you speak the dialect very well, Major, and with your intelligence, and stealth, you should be able to find the supplier without any trouble.

You will then pass on such knowledge to myself and we will develop a sting operation that will entrap the supplier and rid our soldiers of one of their biggest enemies." Decker was showing off, twirling the gun around and over his hands, and then placed it back in its holster under his coat. He watched Casey carefully, and noted the trembling of Casey's body was getting worse. He smirked as he waited patiently for Casey's reply, but he was surprised that Casey only stood taller, and narrowed his piercing blue eyes at the C.I.A. men.

"Decker, I have long thought that the enemy we are fighting in Iraq is not necessarily only the makings of religious zealots, but also is the constant interference from certain 'security organizations' that stick their idiotic noses where they need not be, and put their a.. in our soldiers way." The Marine answered quietly and dangerously, the only visible evidence of his extreme pain was the grip he had on Carol's waist. She only tightened her hold even more, and reached with her left to hold his waistband in the front also.

"I take it that is an irrevocable negative, soldier." Decker stood, his steel grey eyes dark with anger, and his jaw set firmly. He turned to the other agent, and nodded slowly. The two men turned abruptly and strolled out of the door and into the nearby parking lot. As soon as Casey could no longer see them, he let out a huge groan, and his body jerked violently. Instantly, Carol helped him to the nearest chair, and lunged for his wheelchair. Together, they got him into it, and

his head fell to his chest, as his hand fingered through his sweaty hair.

"John, you haven't seen the last of that man, have you?" Carol looked once more out the window at the black Suburban that was leaving the lot. Casey shook his head slowly, and he reached for her hand.

"Thank you, Carol. I appreciate the support in more ways that one." Casey smiled a little, as Carol winked.

"Soldier, it takes a lot more than a suit playing cowboy and Indians with his gun to get me frightened. And I take it, you rather enjoyed that little game a little too much, Major." She patted his shoulder and began to move him toward his room.

Casey barked a laugh and then grabbed the chair wheels to stop her. "Take me outside, Carol. This calls for a celebratory cigar." Carol laughed heartily and did a 180 turn to go out to the courtyard outside. Casey offered her a cigar, and she shook her head, but withdrew a lighter and lit his up. She reached down in her pocket and withdrew some bubble gum, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. As Casey blew smoke rings into the air, she blew magnificent bubbles, and the two of them spent the next hour enjoying the warmth of the Washington, D.C. fall at Walter Reed Hospital and Rehab Unit.

Decker was furious, and his partner dared not say anything as the man negotiated the afternoon traffic in the Capital. Suddenly, Decker pulled the car phone out of its cradle and looked at his partner.

"Remember that informant that we used on the job where we needed someone disposed of?" he asked the driver, who thought a moment and then nodded.

"Yeah, Carson Leonard, I think it was. What? You thinking since Casey can't be persuaded to do his patriotic duty…" the driver grinned a little and didn't finish his sentence.

Decker only smiled in glee, and spoke into the phone. "Decker, C.I.A. #916334-2, clear. Get me Carson Leonard. No, God, I don't have the number. That's your job, idiot. Call me back when you get a hold of him, a.s.a.p." Decker slammed the receiver down hard, and then brought his gun out again and begin to polish it.

"Agent Ho, I think I shall enjoy our little early retirement party for that stubborn s.o.b. Casey!"

Decker began to twirl the pistol, and Agent Ling Ho only smiled along with him as images of a certain dead Marine begin to play in his mind.

Thank you all for your comments and critiquing. As always, I take your reviews to heart and try to write even better. To Cory and Vandevere and Awesome Chuck, thanx. Review more, please.


	4. Chapter 4

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 4

Recap: Year 1991, Casey now has a hit contract out on him by none other than C.I.A. Decker.

The tall Marine was folding the last of his clothes into his duffel bag, and he checked his pistol, and placed it in the back of his fatigue waistband. He checked the night stand by his hospital bed one more time for any of his belongings, and he cast away the small square hospital tub into the nearest garbage pail. "Too many of those things already at home." Casey grumbling cheekily, and then glanced one more time around his room. He had no idea what his next mission would be, or even where he was to report in to. He sighed loudly and stretched his aching back muscles a little to relieve the phantom pains still left by the Iraqi bullet.

"Ready to go home, soldier?" A soft, feminine voice asked from the open door. Casey whirled around, his gun locked and aimed at the heart of his physical therapist, who stood leaning against the door of the room, grinning widely.

"You are oh, so lucky, woman, I didn't blow a hole right through your heart!" Casey commented as he grabbed the bag and slung it over his right shoulder. Carol watched him grimace slightly, and she stepped forward to lay a soft hand on his arm.

"If there is anything I have learned from you, Major, is that you are someone I can trust to NOT blow a hole through me. You take care, soldier, and do your p.t. every day. Get yourself a weight lifting bench and stretch your back and calf muscles every day."

Casey leaned down and patted her on her head. "Nag, nag, nag, you sadist!" He chuckled and then gave her a small hug. "Thank you, Carol, for everything. Don't ever let any Marine off the hook, kiddo, including this one."

Carol sniffled a little in his chest, and then pulled back and smartly saluted her patient. "Go with God, Major."

Casey returned the salute. "As with you, Lt. Caldwell." As he began to walk out of the hospital door, a young man dressed in a sharp Marine uniform also saluted him.

"Major, Lt. Daniel Love, reporting for duty, sir. Lt. Colonel Beckman is down in the parking area waiting for you, sir." Casey raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he followed the aide out to the waiting black limousine. Love opened the door, and a female voice barked out the order.

"Major, step in and listen up closely." Inside the limo, a petite soldier, with flaming red hair piled on top of her head, returned Casey's salute and then motioned for him to sit across from her. She passed him a file, as Love slipped into the driver's seat, and slid the partition between the driver's cab and them shut to allow privacy.

Photos of Agents Rodney Decker and Ling Ho were in the file with facts and names of various Chinese men. Casey recognized several of the names in his past missions throughout China, but what surprised him the most was the link between Ling Ho and the largest illegal arms dealer in Red China, Ho Ming.

"Ho, as in Decker's gopher?" Casey asked his commanding officer, who only silently nodded her head.

She gave him additional time to read the entire file, and he closed it, shaking his head.

"Ho's uncle also supplied the Iragis with **Vladimirov ZPU-4 Anti-Aircraft Artillery Guns ****and the ******Type 98 MBT tanks." ******Beckman finally spoke, as she took back the file Casey had read. **

**"How far is Decker into these dealings, ma'am?" Casey watched as Beckman smiled at his question. "My thoughts, exactly, John. Unfortunately, Rodney Decker has aligned himself with some very powerful people in the C.I.A. and in the Washington 'good ole boys' power caucus. Two of my people were killed under some suspicious circumstances involving this man, Carson Leonard. My agents were trying to get some proof of Decker's involvement, and one was inside his car when it exploded, and one was gunned down in front of his apartment by an unknown drive by shooter." Beckman withdrew another photo from her briefcase, and let Casey study his face. The image showed a man with unkempt hair, and scraggly three day old whiskers. Leonard's teeth were discolored by nicotine, and his clothing resembled something thrown out into the dumpster behind Goodwill. Casey noted the man's intense, intelligent blue eyes, almost hidden under a dirty, brown hat, staring out of the picture. **

**"Don't let his outer clothing lull you into thinking this man is any thing but a serial killer, a deadly mercenary on Decker's payroll, John. My agent, that was gunned down, did get intel on the connection between Leonard and Ling Ho, however, we were never able to find proof that Leonard is at Decker's beck and call."**

**"That's what you want me to do, correct?" Casey raised his eyebrows at his commander and she nodded. "John, what I am asking you to do must remain under the radar. The N.S.A. needs proof that Decker and Ho are in the middle of the arms we have found in the hands of Iraqi terrorists. But, I cannot not order you to do this, soldier. However, you do need to understand the bullet that Dr. Jekyll removed from your back had a serial number that led back to a case of guns sent from Ho Ming's warehouse three months ago to Iraq."**

**"So I have a deep, internal investment in this investigation, Col." Casey said dryly, and the uptight Col. almost smiled at his pun. **

**"Even as you investigate, remember, John, that Leonard has you in the crossfires of his sniper rifle. Work quickly, work silently, and work safely, Major. I don't want to loose another man." **

**Beckman patted Casey's leg, and then reached beyond his shoulder to the privacy partition. She knocked on it, and it rolled open, revealing Lt. Love driving up to Casey's D.C. apartment. Love**

**jumped out, and opened the door for the Major. Love saluted Casey sharply, and then passed him a briefcase. The Colonel inside the limo bent forward and leaned out to talk to her officer. **

**"I think you will find the information in this briefcase helpful, Major. Sleep well, tonight, John, and we will be in contact." **

**Love shut the limo's door, and then slipped back into the driver's seat and the large vehicle pulled away from the Major. Casey slung his bag again up to his shoulder and walked up to the stoop to his complex door. He entered a numerical password, and slid the key in the compound lock. But before he opened the outer door to his apartment, the hairs on his neck stood up. He quickly set the briefcase and duffel down, and withdrew his gun. He glanced up and down his street, but the street lamps and the shiny overhead full moon revealed nothing. Still, Casey's gut was not settling, and his eyes swept up to the rooftop of the building across the street. There, a tiny, quick glint of steel flashed and Casey let a round ****from his Sig fire right at the overhead sniper. Unfortunately, Casey was right out in the open so he grabbed both the bag and briefcase and flew into the inner hallway of his complex. Just as the door shut and locked, the glass in the door shattered and flew over Casey's face. He covered his eyes, but felt the sharp pain of several shards of glass as they flew in the air across his cheeks Crouching, he shot two more rounds out of the shattered window up to where he thought the sniper was but there was no firing back and the city street was quiet.**

**Casey rubbed his face with his sleeve, and replaced his gun in his waist holster. When he stood up, grunting rather loudly at the twinge in his back, he heard a door open a crack, and a pair of huge, brown eyes stared at him in the hallway. **

**"Major, is that you? Is it OK to come out?" Samuel Lavine, Casey's landlord, cautiously stepped out to shake hands with his tenant. He noted the blood still seeping from several cuts on John's face, and he frowned at the broken glass strewn across the hallway. **

**Casey looked rather guilty, and he held his hand out to shake. "I apologize, Mr. Lavine, for the window glass. I can pay you tomorrow to fix it."**

**Lavine laughed heartily and clapped Casey on the shoulder. "This complex has been way too quiet while you were in the hospital, Major. It's about time you came home." The small Jewish landlord shook Casey's hand violently, and passed him a handkerchief to wipe the blood. **

**"Tell you what, my friend. You go put your stuff up in your place, and come help me pound up a sheet of plywood on the door. We will worry about moneys later, agreed?" Lavine clapped John on the shoulder, and laughed again. **

**"The Misses has been wanting me to put up better glass in the door for long, long time now. She will be much pleased that her favorite tenant has found a way to remove glass for me." The small man laughed once more and then retreated to his apartment. As he began to go in, he turned and called out, **

"Shalom, Major."

Casey turned and called over his shoulder, "Shalom, my friend. And thank you for your silence."

The landlord nodded and watched as the soldier, shoulders slumped and steps slow, walked wearily up the stairs to his upper floor apartment. Levine spoke softly, "May the Lord protect you and guide you, Major Casey", and he closed his door. John stopped and the prayer from the caring man below washed over his tired body. He straightened up and went to go shower and then fix a door for his landlord.

Please review by clicking that wonderful little link below. Would love to hear from you all out there in the FanFiction community. Wonder what's in the briefcase to help our man? **Note** Carson Leonard looks a lot like Lennie from "The Thirst" and Danny Love is on loan from "The Inside". Tried to add photos of both but FanFiction would not read the photo image. Any suggestions on how to inbed links to photo images?


	5. Chapter 5

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 5

Recap: 10 years ago, Major John Casey is assigned his first stateside uncover mission, to find out if Rodney Decker, C.I. linked to a notorious arms dealer from China. What he finds is a large web of deceit that follows him up to the present time.

Major John Casey had slept like a baby last night, and now refreshed by a shower, wheat toast, and his personal coffee mug, emblazoned with "Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall!", filled with black, bitter coffee. He was dressed casually, his feet bare, and he was seated on his Goodwill sofa reject going through the files he found in the briefcase the General has passed him the evening before. He smiled at the grimy picture of "Lenny", looking carefully at the guns the man has in his hands. Casey admired especially the sniper rifle, realizing it as military grade. He sobered when he read additional intel on Leonard, and knew he would have a very formidable enemy to deal with. He began to devise a plan, and found a small notepad to write out his various destinations for that day. Each one had a confidential informant that could give him more information on both Leonard and Decker, so he packed a black backpack with extra guns and ammunition, as well as a wad of money the General had designated as bribery payment. He was just about to snap the briefcase shut, when he spotted a sealed legal sized envelope with a strong, masculine scrawl with his name on the front of it. He opened it carefully, and read the simple note within, as a barrage of memories hit his brain.

_John:_

_You and I share a mutual friend, and a mutual battle. First, Carol, the physical therapist, sends her regards, and told me to communicate with you about keeping your weight lifting on your "do to" list. However, my last contact with you taught me that you are one man who takes his calling seriously, and finds much "to do", beyond reps on a barbell, each day, especially if General Beckman is involved. _

_Our paths crossed a few years ago, when I served as Marine chaplain. You and I were separated from our battalion and you got caught in the crossfire. Your leg was shot up badly, and I was able to get you to some bombed out building safely. Do you remember? _

John put the letter down for a moment, walked to the kitchenette and filled his coffee mug up again, trying not to let the memories of this battle affect his calm. When he returned to his living room, he picked up the letter, sighing loudly, and began reading again.

_However, when I went for help, you were captured and thus began a long, and painful stay courtesy of that cur, Ben Laden. Some time later, I understand the Marines who rescued you found you a little worse for wear, but still as courageous and dare I say as mule headed as I remember. _

John smirked at that statement, and he would be eternally grateful for the chaplain's refusal not to give up looking for him, and the young Iraqi girl who gave up her life to help Casey live. He sipped his coffee, and caressed the letter gently, knowing that he owed his life to this feisty Christian chaplain.

_Well, now you can see how easily it is for me to talk on and on. I am retiring from the Corps, and returning permanently to the Pacific Northwest, and my dear Annie. My doctor says I have terminal cancer due to exposure to a chemical weapon our savage enemies devised over in the sands of oblivion. So I am called home to live a life of extreme urgency, but when have we not, right, Major?_

_In the envelope, you will find some contacts that will help you on your new quest for information on_

_the mission you are now assigned. General Beckman has briefed me, and I believe the names I have provided will give you safe haven throughout D.C., as well as proof of Decker's connections with the Chinese arms dealers. _

_John, keep safe. Our time together was too short, but I grew to admire your courage and your tenacity. Will you come soon to visit us up there in God's country? I do not know how long God will allow me to stay this side of heaven, so I really mean soon. But rest assured, we have a small cabin up in Capital Forest that is always open to a certain N.S.A. Major. Vaya Con Dios, John. _

_In Christ, _

_Your friend, _

_Major John Anthony Coburn _

_Chaplain, U.S.M.C. _

Casey scanned the list of contacts, and he was greatly surprised at the information the chaplain had scrounged throughout his career. Casey edited his notepad list, and once satisfied with what he was to do next, he destroyed both Coburn's letter and the information he had provided. Casey stood up, and worked the kinks out of his back, strolling to the window that faced the building Leonard had used to try and snipe him the previous night. His sharp eyes was able to pinpoint the exact section of the building's roof Leonard used, and Casey knew that was his first stop. He threw in a couple of water bottles, and some fruit with the antibiotics he was to take in the next few days. He finished slipping socks and his boots on, arming his ankle holster with his favorite knife, and grabbing a nondescript black coat. He locked his apartment, and limped down the hallway to the boarded up front security door. He paused, as he caught sight of the plywood sheet he and the landlord had installed last night. He turned and knocked on the man's door, and when Mrs. Lavine answered, Casey gave her some money to pay for the new glass Leonard had shot out, and told her he was to be gone for a few days.

The small, Jewish woman grabbed John's hands and squeezed them gently. "Mr. Casey, you do not have to pay for window. Insurance company already come, and we get one of them wire embedded shatter proof glass panes I been wanting Samuel to install. This is a good thing, this shattering of window." She reached up to touch the cuts still red on his face, but he jerked away from her hand, and she withdrew it sadly.

"You are busy man, Mr. Casey, but you are lonely man. I go fix sandwiches for you. You have no woman to take care of you, no mother to love you. I will go. You come in and I will fix you something to carry in that important bag." She grabbed his arm again, and began to pull him into their comfortable, but overflowing apartment.

"Mrs. Lavine, you are too kind, but I must get on my way." Casey tried to turn to leave, but her touch on his back where the bullet wound was, stopped him.

"Mr. Casey, you are injured. I feel the bandages. At least, let me fix you sandwiches, and check your wound." She glared up at him, and suddenly, Casey remembered his mother years earlier, chastising him for falling out of the oak tree in the front yard. His twin brother Chad, had dared him to climb the highest of the four boys, and sure enough he took the dare. Before he knew it however, a violent wind has arisen, and Casey lost his handhold, and came crashing down to the ground from thirty feet in the air. He only broke his arm then, but his mother's face, scolding him for taking his brother's idiotic dare, looked just like Mrs. Lavine. Casey checked his watch, but the little Jewish mother would not be deterred. He obediently sat down on the ancient, doily covered sofa, and as he drank her spice tea, she prepared him several mouth watering sandwiches. Once done with that, she found a first aid kit, and made him take his jacket off and lift his t shirt. She carefully pealed the hospital bandage off his back wound, and clucking like a disgruntled hen, she cleaned the hole and bandaged it up again. He began to rise but she stopped him again with a firm hand on his bicep.

"Your leg, Mr. Casey. Take off you boot, and pull pants up." Casey lifted an eyebrow, questioning how she knew he had a wound there, but he again obediently did what she ordered him to do. This time, the hole left by the bullet was still red, and inflamed, and when she put antiseptic cream on it he hissed.

"I do not know what you do for a living, Mr. Casey but indeed it must be not nice work. These are bullet wounds, and they need to be checked by a good doctor." She studied his face, but he showed little emotion, his jaw set firmly, but his eyes were looking at her softly. He took her small hands in his and lifted them up to kiss.

"Thank you Mrs. Lavine, for your kind help. Please do not tell anyone about me in the next few days. I will be gone, but there may be men asking for me."

The little woman blushed at his kiss, but she nodded solemnly. "Your work is very important, and I understand very secret. They will not get anything out of Samuel or me. We will send them on what do you call it, 'wild turkey chase'?"

John smiled in spite of the awkwardness of the moment, as a mental picture of Leonard as a very large, fat turkey armed to the hilt with a sniper rifle. "Wild goose chase, Mrs. Lavine. And again, I cannot thank you enough." Casey rose up, and put his jacket on, shouldering his backpack. As he turned to the front door, Mrs. Lavine stopped him once more, reached up and took his handsome face in her little hands. "May the Lord protect and defend you, Major." Then she winked at him, and put her index finger to his lips. "Wild turkey chase." She smiled and opened the door for him. Casey chuckled again at her misquote and as he left the apartment building, he was shaking his head at her accurate assessment of his true title.

[Life has an incredible ability to interrupt my visits to John Casey, but I am back, and will continue to unveil the reasons why Casey has such a deep mistrust of the C.I.A, and the backstabbing Decker. Hand on, friends. Should be an interesting ride. Please review as always. I look to your comments for improvement and I do appreciate every one of the reviews so very much. Shalom.]


	6. Chapter 6

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 6

Recap: Major Casey has been assigned a mission to try and dip up intel on a Chinese arms dealer with links to C.I.A. Decker ten years ago. What he finds begins to lead him all over D.C. on a very interesting "wild turkey chase."

Casey moved slowly across the roof top of the building the sniper used to fire at him the night before. He stepped carefully around the various leaves and blown down small branches, and hid behind the air conditioning units spaced throughout the roof. He moved stealthily toward the edge of the roof where he had spotted the sniper, and when he saw or heard no one, he sat his backpack down and investigated the 3 foot cement railing that ran along the edge of the roof line. He noted the deep, black scratches on the barrier, scratches left by hastily collapsing the rifle's metal tripod. He searched carefully on the ground near his feet, and found one shell casing, with an interesting Chinese stamp on the bottom of it. He pocketed the casing safely in his back pocket, shouldered his backpack and began to stand. However, he crouched down immediately, as a foul body odor began to waft near him. He threw his pack down and reached for his pistol, but the man who had moved behind him was to quick. Leonard kicked the pistol away from Casey's hand, and it went flying off the roof's edge to the ground below. Casey rose up and punched Lenny in the gut with his left hand, and the large man doubled over with a "humph!" but rose back up again and hit Casey across the chin with his right fist. The Major saw stars for a moment, and growled, "Is that the best you can do, LENNY?" That only angered the sniper even more, and he bowled John over onto the roof top, and the two equally matched men rolled over for several feet, exchanging blow for blow. John nearly had Lenny gasping for breath as he tried to pull John's muscular arm away from his windpipe. Then, Lenny came up with a knife from somewhere and slashed across John's chest, through his lightweight jacket, and t shirt and into the top layer of skin. John rasped in pain, and put all his energy into backhanding the assassin across the jaw, which propelled Lenny backwards onto his butt. When the sniper hit the hard surface, his knife went sailing, giving John the opportunity to find his knife in his boat and throw it at Lenny. Leonard saw the sharp edge coming at him, and he rolled over, with the knife slicing through his pant leg, and anchoring Lenny to the surface. John leaned over the assassin, huffing loudly, and placed his knee on the sniper's chest, pushing down heavily, trying not to let the man's darkened front teeth gross him out.

"You know, Lenny, if you really want to sneak up behind your victims, I would suggest three words:

Irish Spring and Crest!" He struck Lenny one last time across the jaw, and he was very pleased that Leonard was knocked out. Casey grunted and stood up reaching for his backpack. As he did, the knife swipe across his chest flared up in pain, and his tongue tasted something very metallic through his saliva. Instantly, he knew that he must get out of there and to a doctor quickly, as his increased adrenaline was pumping poison through his blood. He pulled his knife out of Lenny's pant leg, re- holstered it in his boat, and staggered away from the silent, sleeping assassin, realizing he had no time for interrogation. Pulling the roof top door open, he gasped again at the pain, and brought his hand up to feel the blood now dripping down his chest under the shirt and into his belt. He rode the unoccupied elevator down to the ground floor, and waited until there were no pedestrians or cars going by as he slipped out. He tried to keep the jacket closed so no one could see the wound, and fought the churning of his stomach, and the blurring of his vision. He fell up against the nearest phone booth, and taking out the first of John Coburn's contacts, located in D.C.'s sprawling Chinatown, he dialed the number, the digits floating in and out of his eyesight. A quiet voice answered on the other line, and John swallowed deeply to get his shaking voice under control.

"Whang Kim's Herbs and Medicines, may I help you?"

"Sir, you do not know me, but I am a friend of Chaplain John Coburn." Casey hissed as his chest fired up on the pain notch, but he gritted his teeth and continued. "I...I need some information that you may have, sir." John felt the world shift violently, and he grabbed the phone box to stop it from tilting.

"Are you alright, friend of Chaplain John Coburn?" The heavily accented voice was soothing and calming to John, and He instantly felt his anxiety lower. "Forgive me, sir, I think I may have been poisoned with a knife dipped in something. I...need..." he gasped again, clutching at the fire in his chest, and swallowing the bile that threatened to expel itself.

"Friend of Chaplain John, where are you? You must come to me. I will help you." The man instructed the Marine, but John interrupted.

"Sir, I have no car to reach you...and I cannot...arggh!" John fell against the wall of the phone booth, and retched over his pants and shoes.

"Where are you, friend of Chaplain John Coburn?" The voice asked urgently, and spoke quickly in Chinese to someone standing near him.

Casey gasped out the address, and as he sank slowly to the bottom of the phone booth, he whispered, 我很感谢你，先生。 ["I am indebted to you, sir.] The voice on the other end chuckled softly.

支付的债务旁边是神的恩典。["The paying of debt is next to the grace of God."] Mr. Kim spoke. "My niece and I will be there in ten minutes, friend."

"Now, indeed, Mr. Kim, you sound like my friend Chaplain John." With that, Casey put his head against the glass of the phone booth, and succumbed to the darkness.

The next time he awoke, the fire in his chest had died down, and he reached to feel the bandage across it. The smell of incense was heavy in the air, and he realized the gently rocking he was feeling was the small boat he now was on swaying on waves. He tried to sit up, but his head decided to give the small room a swirl, and he laid back on the cot, as a gently hand touched his shoulder.

"Mr. Casey, you must drink this tea. It will help you with the nausea, and will continue to purge the poison from you." The small Chinese man sitting next to him, helped raise his head, and let him sip on the soothing tea. John drank deeply, until Mr. Kim withdrew the cup, clucking about not drinking too fast.

"My name...how did you...?" John tried to keep his eyes open and he rubbed his forehead in confusion, as he noticed the simple draw string pants he was in. "My clothes..."

"Were rotten and evil smelling. That is when I found out who you were. My niece and I removed your pants, and your wallet fell out. Forgive an old man, but curiosity overtook me, and I peeked." Kim giggled like a school child and help up the wallet for John to see. "Much important, you are. Much money you have. But I do not know how you know my friend, Chaplain John?" Kim poured another cup of tea and held it so Casey could drink. As the soothing liquid went down his throat, the chest pain went away, and a soft hazy light began to infiltrate the room. He struggled up and grabbed Mr. Kim's tunic in his large fist.

"You've drugged me, Kim. You are not any better than Lenny, the sniper." John was fast loosing his strength, and the small man was able to pull Casey's hand away and put it on the cot. He patted the Marine's hand, and smiled indulgently at the big man.

"Your enemy brings death. I bring life. Sleep now, Mr. Casey. We will talk later." Kim rose and shuffled to the room's door, glancing back at his patient. Satisfied that John was not going to move, he murmured in John's direction, "Vaya Con Dios, Major," and softly closed the door.

The next week John was in a haze, as he went in and out of consciousness. The medicinal herbs Kim continued to give him did improve his strength and help the knife wound to heal without a noticeable scar. Throughout the time, Kim and his niece either sat by his bed, or helped him get back and forth to the bathroom. Kim's niece was a college student studying art at Georgetown, and was living with her uncle to save on transportation costs. As John got stronger, she began to share about her classes, and how she and Kim had met John Coburn.

"Uncle Kim was attacked by a few young men from a tong who wanted him to pay protection money on the herbal shop. He landed in the hospital, and Chaplain John came to visit him, since I put down that Uncle Kim was a Christian. They struck up a wonderful friendship. Uncle Kim taught Chaplain several facts about herbs, and even showed him how to cook a broth to help sooth John's nausea after his chemo treatments." John nodded his head, as he remembered the note he had found in the briefcase the General had given him. Once again, he shot a quick prayer of gratitude to the God John Coburn served, for this safety and healing provided through Mr. Kim and his niece.

"In exchange, Chaplain John taught Uncle Kim much truth about life and Jesus from the Bible and even gave him this Bible in Chinese. I am saddened that he must leave the military, but I know he is going home to a wife he deeply loves." Kim's niece sighed, and then smiled at Casey. "How did you meet Chaplain John?"

Casey recounted the time Coburn had saved his life, and by the time he was done with his story, both Kim and his niece had tears in their eyes. "It was John who told me to contact you, Mr. Kim. I am searching for some information about Ho Ming." Before Casey could continue, he saw both of his friends grow white, and Mr. Kim stood abruptly. He stepped to a small book case and withdrew a photo album. He passed the album to John, who with the niece's help, sat up on the cot, swinging his long legs over the edge and to the floor.

"This is my brother and his wife, my sweet niece's parents, Mr. Casey. They were killed by an assassin hired on by Ho Ming, because they refused to play Ming's games of prostitution and illegal arms."

The niece was crying softly as she looked at her parent's pictures. John looked up at Mr. Kim, dreading the next question, but his gut was seeking the truth he knew he would hear.

"How were they killed?"

"By sniper rifle. By this man." Kim showed a clipping of the newspaper article of the death of his relatives, and there beside it was a picture of the man who had tried to kill Casey last week: Carson Leonard.

Mr. Kim and his niece come courteous of AB's movie Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde, and Lenny, from The Thirst. Love to bring in his past roles, and yes, I will someday explain the different last names between John Casey and his 4 brothers. [But not yet!] I hope you enjoyed our little jaunt into Chinatown, and Pastor Annie will join up shortly. So dear ones, please leave reviews. Love the kudos and the criticisms, and just knowing someone is enjoying our Colonel is so much fun.


	7. Chapter 7

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 7

Recap: 10 years ago, Col. John Casey ran into Rodney Decker, C.I.A., and their animosity begins to flow over the years from Washington, D.C. To Burbank, to the Pacific Northwest.

Casey felt strong enough to venture out on the deck of the small boat Kim owned, and the soft, autumn breeze and the gently flowing water on the bay outside of Washington, D.C. made the Marine even more invigorated. He had on a comfortable pair of draw string pants, and a t shirt with an American flag on the front of it Kim's niece had bought him. He stretched slowly, his back muscles freeing themselves up after days lying on the cot. His chest scar was healing rapidly, thanks to the various teas, and plasters Kim had applied to his body. Slowly, he began to work through a simple martial arts kata he had picked up over the years, and as he worked through the various poses, his mind sharpened and his body responded to the calming exercises. Over and over again he thrust, kicked, stretched, and arched into the centuries old traditional arts and he began to thrill at the response he was getting from his muscles. Faster, faster he went, the sweat flying, his feet, his hands whipping into action, his heart strong, beating a relentless rhythm: defense, offense, breathing, focus, balance, defense, offense, breathing, focus, balance, until his entire body was only a blur. Then he suddenly stopped, his hands relaxed, his feet were brought together, his breathing slowed, and he bowed to his unseen opponent.

For a few moments only the gentle lapping of the sea could be heard, and as John slowed his breathing, Master Kim cleared his throat. John whipped around and his pistol, hidden in the back waist of his pants was now pointed at the old Chinese. Kim bowed ever so slowly, and then mischievously grinned.

"You are indeed a fine master of the ancient arts, friend of Chaplain John. But you are telegraphing your strikes by lowering your left shoulder each time."

Casey only grunted, but he laid the pistol down and bowed to Kim.

For the next hour, Kim patiently but tenaciously showed Casey better balance, better stance, and how not to telegraph his next move so much. Though the small man was well over 80 pounds lighter than John, Kim easily was able to flatten the Marine to the deck until panting so hard, neither could breath.

Kim plopped himself down next to Casey and the two men watched the clouds rush past them in the sky overhead.

"You are a man of great mystery, friend of Chaplain John. But a man of great honor. It is time for you to continue the journey God has mapped out for you. I have gathered some more information for you on Ho Ming, and his lieutenant, Carson Leonard. You will need to go to my friend in the city at the First Church of God on 3rd Street. He will help you connects the dots, as they say, my friend." Kim patted John's shoulder and then promptly did a front flip and righted himself. He shuffled off to prepare one last meal for their guest, and John continued to lay on his back, and watch the clouds rush by.

Sobered by John's leaving that day, lunch was fairly quiet. Casey left the table and went to pack his duffel bag while Kim and his niece cleaned up the dishes. As John slipped into his new clothes, bought by Kim's niece, he admired the cut of the black jacket especially, and as he looked into the small full length mirror in his cabin, he saw a man rested, several pounds lighter, and his body was most defined with muscle then it had been for several years. He patted his jacket when he felt something in the pocket, and he pulled out a small New Testament Bible written in Chinese. An inscription was written in the front of the Bible: _T__**o Whang Kim, my true friend, and my true brother in the army of God. Vaya Con Dios, Master Kim. In Christ, Chaplain John Coburn. **_The Major turned to look at the man who stood by the edge of his cabin, his ancient eyes, black and sparkling, a small piece of paper in his hands.

"Master Kim, I am deeply honored but very unworthy to receive this gift. It was for you, not for me."

John tried to reach out and pass the small book to Kim, who shook his head violently.

"Do you recall when I first told you 'the paying of a debt is next to the grace of God'?" Kim looked intently into John's sky blue eyes, and the Marine nodded.

"Chaplain John taught me that I owed a great debt I could not pay, and my Lord Jesus paid my great debt He did not owe. So I pass on the paying of such great a debt by giving you the book that can give you great peace, Major Casey." John flinched at the use of his military rank, but Kim only smiled shyly.

"I saw your N.S.A. Badge, Major, but your bearing and your wound would have only occurred if you were deep into our marvelous new home's military protection. It has been a great honor to help you Major. I am changed because I have become your friend, just as Chaplain John changed me by his unconditional love and respect for me. I will pray God's protection as you go on to the next step, Major. And if ever you get poisoned again, please know that my many herbs and mustard plasters are at your disposal."

John guffawed as he remembered very well many arguments as to whether he would continue trying to swallow the numerous bitter concoctions Kim demanded him to drink. He reached down and hugged the small Chinese man, and whispered in his ear, "我感谢你们每一纪念我的上帝。[I thank my God for every remembrance of you.*] Vaya Con Dios, Master Kim." The little man patted John on his large shoulder and sniffed quietly to himself.

John strolled out to the dock landing, and then turned to give Kim's niece a soft hug. She reached up and kissed him quickly on the lips and then ran downstairs to her uncle. John grinned widely and it was several blocks before he was able to get the taste of her delicious watermelon lipstick off his lips.

Casey was able to hail a taxi about six blocks from Whang Ho's boat docking and after giving the driver the next address, he settled back into the cab's seat and watched the various famous monuments fly by. He remembered many a mission that was here in Washington, D.C. And as the taxi drove closer to the Vietnam Memorial, John asked the cab to stop and let him walk to the memorial. The cab driver nodded vigorously, and began to tell John his own military history serving in Thailand and Vietnam. As the taxi pulled into the designated parking lot, the driver shut the meter off, and surprised John by walking with him to the huge black granite stone edifice. Slowly, both John and the cab driver walked to various names of the dead soldiers they knew. John touched the name of Lt. Colonel David Chad Cobb Coburn, and the usually stoic Marine bowed his head, and remembered the brave father who left one day and never returned. He stepped back and saluted sharply, his heart so thankful for the loving father who gave his love and his life so freely to his family and country. As he turned, his sharp eyes caught a very tall man standing off watching him closely. Carson Leonard stood ramrod straight, and stared at the target of his assignment. Leonard was smoking a putrid short stub of a cigar, and when he saw John's jaw set firm, and heard the growl the Marine made, the assassin only saluted him sharply and pulled back into the crowd of people milling around the memorial.

Casey found the cab driver quickly, and ordered him to take a indirect route to the 3rd street church. After a full hour of driving, the driver pulled up to the steps of the church, and turned to shake John's hand.

"Sir, there is no charge. It has been an honor." As Casey stepped out of the cab, and stared after the driver, the man saluted him, and spun away swiftly. Casey ran up the steps and entered the quiet, beautiful sanctuary of the church. He looked for directions to the main office, and after knocking on the door, he entered into a small, nicely furnished room. The pleasant looking woman behind the desk, looked over her reading glasses, and smiled widely at him.

"May I help you, sir?" she asked after staring at him for a few moments.

He brushed off her stare as only rudeness, and he pulled out the piece of paper Kim had given him.

"Yes, ma'am, I am looking for a David Dixon." He was a little confused at her reaction,when she giggled and said only, "of course, sir. May I tell him who is calling?"

"John Casey. I don't think he knows me, but I have a mutual friend in Whang Kim." The secretary nodded enthusiastically, and remarked as she dialed Dixon's number, "Yes, Master Kim teaches a self defense class here at the church, for women. He says I am a promising student...Oh, hello, David, there is a Mr. John Casey here looking for you. Yes, John Casey. He said he is a friend of Master Kim. All right, I'll bring him there. Thank you, David."

"Mr. Casey, would you be so kind as to follow me? David is in the Upper Room getting ready for youth group meeting tonight." She bustled out from behind the desk, looked intently at Casey and then shook her head. "Amazing", she mumbled and showed him the way to the "Upper Room" a large classroom built above the sanctuary. They climbed several flights of stairs and Casey tuned out the secretary's chatter until she explained that David was part time youth minister as he was serving in the Marines Corp Reserve. Casey pricked up his ears, and by the time they knocked on the colorful door filled with posters of kids biking, hiking, and skateboarding, John Casey was profoundly confused and slightly anxious to meet this mysterious David Dixon. When the youth pastor opened the door violently, they both gasped. John Casey was looking at a slightly older and heavier version of himself.

"Dave?" John finally managed to choke out.

"Alex, you sly dog. Why didn't you tell Mary here your real first name? Mary, meet my kid brother, what is it you go by now?" Dave Coburn Dixon laughed riotously as he looked at the astonished, open mouthed gape of his brother, and clapped him on the back.

"John, Dave. My name is John Casey." Casey managed to blurt out, but Mary only giggled. "Yes, sir, I know. No wonder you look so much like Dave here. This is most wonderful. I can't wait to tell Pastor Marvin this."

John's eyes flashed coldly, but he turned and smiled at Mary. "Ma'am if you don't mind keeping this under the table. I am only here for a few minutes, and I am afraid..." Dave interrupted and laughed again out loud.

"Mary, my brother here is in some very quiet, important military work for the Marines, and I know I can count on your confidentiality, right, girlfriend?" Dave leaned toward Mary, and whispered loudly, his index finger to his lips. He winked at John and then showed him in. "Tell Pastor Marvin I will call him later about the youth mission trip to the Pacific Northwest, ok? Now, John, Alex, Bert, Fred, Ernie, whatever name you are going by these days, come on in and sit those huge bones of yours and let me pour you a bad, black and bitter cup of coffee."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Casey." Mary grinned once more and left, closing the door swiftly behind her.

Dave's eyes lingered at the door a little longer than necessary, and he sighed loudly. "I love that woman, Alex. But she is still getting over the her divorce from her abusive husband three years ago, so one must be patient, yes?" Dave grinned again and then looked intently at his quiet brother, noting the tense muscles and set of the jaw.

"You are not here to listen to me jabbering about my love life, are you, Alex? Master Kim has sent you to me, I understand? If he sent you, brother, there is something you are deeply imbedded in, isn't there? I have a level three security clearance and one of our congregational members is General Diane Beckman." John's eyebrow shot up at that announcement, and he grunted his approval. His shoulders lowered themselves, and he seemed more relaxed.

Dave pour him a large cup of coffee and sat back to catch up on why John was there in his office. At the name of Rodney Decker, Dave growled loudly.

"Lord, have mercy. I thought I was done having to deal with that snake. Alex, he nearly got me killed in Iraq with his underhanded drug and arms dealing and one name kept coming up that seemed to supply whatever Decker needed: Ho Ming."

"Do you have conclusive proof that Decker is currently involved still with Ho Ming?" John was very interested in David's knowledge, and he leaned forward intently.

David shook his head sadly, but was able to supply John with proof that while David was deployed over in Iraq, Decker was involved in several secret arms deals with Ho Ming. However, the intel stopped at David's end of his tour, so John was still struggling to gain some current information. He spent another hour catching up on David's life, and he was pleased to see David so happy in his ministry.

"Yeah, wouldn't mom be laughing at seeing me involved with kids, Alex? You remember I never ever wanted to babysit you three snotty nosed brats when we were younger, and here I am, well I hope not just babysitting, but giving them some love and hope for their lives. You know, after dad was killed, I really struggled with some issues, and ended up addicted to heroin." John again looked at his brother, amazed that he had lost contact so much that he never knew David's problems.

Dave looked down to the floor, and soberly spoke. "Yeah, if it wasn't for Pastor Marvin, and the recovery group Mary was heading up, I would probably be dead now. They helped me to call out to God, and the Lord saved me and restored me. That's when I changed my name, as a sign of a new life I had been given. Pastor's last name is Dixon, and I really admire him, so I used his name for my new last name." David looked around the room and continued.

"I don't know if this is a full time job or not. You know, I loved the Marine Corp and there is an interesting opportunity for me to transfer to Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado to work with a multi-military operation there. But I would like to take Mary with me, if she will have me. So I stay, and I pray, a lot, bro."

John nodded and smiled softly at the brother whose footsteps he always wanted to emulate. He took the file Dave gave him, and when he stood, David grabbed him and hugged him, showering him with a short but heart felt prayer. They shook hands, and Dave walked him down the flight of stairs and to the church's front door. Once again they hugged, and as John turned away, Dave caught his arm.

"Alex, John, don't stay away so long. I need my kid brother to keep me in line. After all, you always were a better shot than me."

"You got that right, Dave!" John grunted and then laughed. As he walked down the church's steps, he felt a little closer to finding the link between Decker and his current partner in crime. Finding a nearby phone booth, he called General Beckman and arranged a ride to her office at the Pentegon. While there, he updated her on the intel Dave and Master Kim had supplied him, and she was very pleased with his progress. He also updated her on "Lenny's" attempts at his life, and she nodded solemnly.

"Major, you must draw the s.o.b. out of hiding and then we can interrogate him. I think I can make an offer he will not be able to refuse." The petite General was fire and spit, and John knew she would indeed keep her word. They formulated a plan that would be put into action the following day, and she arranged for him to stay in an unknown safe house. As he was settling into yet another strange bed, he was amazed again at the events that had happened over the few weeks concerning Master Kim and Dave Dixon, two men who showed him again the strength of living faith.

*John's quote in Chinese is from Philippians 1:3, New International Version. I hope this chapter was not too "preachy" and too laid back. Lenny will get his due next chapter, and John will find the intel that will eventually hang our evil Decker. Hisssss! As always, reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for continuing in this journey with the Colonel. Kudos and criticisms always appreciated and read.


	8. Chapter 8

The Colonel Vs. the Parson's Fight Chapter 8

Recap: 10 years ago, Major John Casey meets Decker, C.I.A., under some shady circumstances, that leads to a contract put out on John's life. Once united with General Beckman, the two plan a double cross that hopefully with land both Decker and his assassin, Carson Leonard, in prison for the rest of their lives.

The navy pea coated man walked silently between the shadows of the night and the city streets. A baseball cap for the Chicago Cubs was pulled down over his brilliant, blue eyes which darted up and down the quiet, rainy streets in Washington, D.C. The moon was flickering in and out of the fall's fast moving clouds above the tall man, and he was supremely careful to move only when the moonlight was hidden. His senses were on high alert, trying to pick up any cheap cigar smell, or rancid body odor, but he smelt nothing but the fresh odor of the clean rain. The puddles on the street were shiny, and often the reflections of the overhead street lights caused him to pause, in case it was the reflection off of a sniper's rifle. But once he was satisfied it was only a flickering of a lamp's reflection, he proceeded further down the quiet street to the building where his apartment was. Slowly, he moved to jog across the street to the new entrance door his landlord had installed when he smelt the man he expected. As his hand reached out to key the front door, a pistol was pressed into his neck, and the rancid smell overwhelmed him, and he growled out, as the assassin pushed his body up against the new window,

"Lenny, Lenny, Lenny, you never took my suggestions for your personal hygiene did you, buddy?" Casey laughed out loud, but it was cut short, when Lenny pistol whipped him with the gun's butt right into his right kidney. His hands slapped against the door's glass, his knees buckled, and he tried to keep a groan from escaping his lips, as he turned his face away from the man's filthy breath.

"Is that all you got, LENNY?" Casey baited the assassin and once again he paid for it dearly with a punch to his already damaged kidney. This time he went down, but staggered up when Lenny grabbed his jacket's nape and pulled him up.

"Casey, god, when will ya ev'r learn ta keep ur trap shut? I swear, ya jab more than ma, and that's pretty bad." Lenny laughed heartedly in his ear, and blew the rancid cigar smoke into John's face. He pulled Casey around and thrust him against the new door, and put the pistol under the Marine's chin. Casey glared at the man, and was strangely fascinated by the fact that they shared the same colored eyes.

"Move once more, soldier, and I will blow ya a hole right through that there pretty Michelangelo chin of yurin'. Mmmm," Lenny leaned even closer, grinding his hip into John's groin. "Y's a big boy, aren't ya. Bet them there ladies like ur man parts." John's eyes flashed even angrier, but he said nothing. By this time, Lenny's other hand was removing John's Sig behind his back, from under the coat jacket, and for other weapons on his body. Lenny's cigar was leaving bits of lighted ash all over John's coat, and the soft dew of the evening was the only reason why the small bits didn't catch fire further.

John's body was strumming with tension, but he kept himself in check, as he felt Lenny's hands roam up and down each leg. Carson found Casey's knife blade in one boot, and the small pistol in the other, and rather than be miffed, he admired every piece, commenting on its various functions in gutting or killing various victims. His heavy uneducated accent was grinding on John's nerves, also, so that by the time Leonard was done, Casey was growling deeply.

"You done coping a feel, pervert?" Casey growled and tried to head butt the assassin, who easily swung out of the way, and backhanded the Marine. Blood leaked out of Casey's cracked lip, his temper was beginning to fray, and when he came up from the crouch, he found Lenny's pistol pointed right between his eyes.

"Easy does it, soldier boy. We takin' a nice, friendly walk in this here loverly autumn eve." Lenny twirled Casey around and pushed the gun into John's back, and together they walked back across the street, Casey's hands slightly up and in view. "Ya know, Johnny boy, ya done got there the family eyes." Lenny mentioned casually, but stopped when John halted abruptly.

"Move it, boy. Yep, didn't ya know, buddy, we is cuzes. My pa and your pa are brothers, so that there makes us first cuzins, I reacon."

Casey twirled around and stepped right into Leonard's face. "The only family you are related to is a herd of filthy, mud sucking swine I know down at the slaughterhouse." With that, he swung right into Lenny's gut and as Lenny reflexedly bent over, John took both of his fists, and pounded into Lenny's head. The assassin sprawled on the street, but his gun never left his hand, so as he moved to shake the stars from out of his head, he took wild aim at the soldier. The shot went high and hit the lamp post, but it was enough to start Casey off on a run into the abandoned building across the street, the same one Lenny had used several weeks ago to try and snipe him. Lenny staggered up, and lumbered, rather lopsidedly, after John, and the two men began the age old cat and mouse game up the rickety steps to the roof overhead. Several times, Lenny pulled off rounds, but each time they went wild, too high, too low, and each time John taunted the man with "you're the sorriest assassin I've ever met. Who taught you to shoot, Porky Pig? Hey, Lenny, remind me to tell Decker he hired the wrong man."

That statement was said on the roof as the two men faced each other. John had taken off his jacket, and he wrapped it around his forearm, because Lenny had dumped his empty pistol in favor of his poison laced knife. He began to swing at John, closer, closer, and each time the Marine was able to force the assassin back, the blade went rushing past his arm safely.

"Decker knew exactly who he was buying, Johnny boy." Lenny's cigar was jammed in his mouth, and it still had the tip lit. He kept sucking on it, and as John protected himself, kicking, twirling, remembering the mantra Kim taught him, defense, offense, focus, balance, breathing, he could not help but be fascinated by the tiny red light it provided. Again and again, John's kicks made home base, and Lenny was pounded over and over again, but the tall man never gave up. He didn't notice that John was deliberately backing him up to the roof edge, until the back of his legs hit the three feet high ledge, and he almost went over, but grabbed the ledge to stop himself. Both were gasping for breath, and Lenny's hand was still waving the knife at John, who now stood hunched near him, staring him down.

"Lenny, you are never going to be more than a two bit piece of dung, know that buddy? Decker should have gotten himself another boy."

Lenny roared and lunged at John, swiping the blade which caught John's side and ripped through his shirt. But Casey let Lenny's left hand grab his shoulder, and then Lenny screamed at his left hand, as it begin to burn and fester with blisters, flesh sizzling, and burning. He dropped the knife, and went down to the ground, grasping his bleeding left paw, screaming at the intense pain. John stared down at the man, and taking a deep calming breath, careful to not lower his left shoulder, Major Johnathan Ryan Casey did a perfect round house kick, and kicked Carson Leonard right up and over the roof ledge to the asphalt ground below. He heard the man scream all the way down, and when he peered over the ledge, the assassin was dead, lying in a rapidly growing puddle of his own blood, the blow fish poison slime continuing to eat at his left hand. Casey carefully pulled his shirt up and off of his body, and dropped it over the edge, also. The gash in his side was beginning to flare up, and he knew he must once more get to Kim for the man's herbal anti-toxin. He leaned over to his boot heel, slid the heel to one side, and pulled out a small pistol. He shot one round in the air, and a tiny projectile flew out of his gun, with a cable streaming behind it. The "bullet" opened up and a small beacon begin to pulse. Casey clipped the cable to his belt, and waited silently for a few minutes for the chopper sounds that began to near. The gash was leaking blood, and he felt the tell tell signs of the poison Lenny loved to use, but he grinned widely as he saw the helicopter come close to the beacon cable, and grab it with a hook released from the chopper underbelly. Slowly, John was lifted off from the roof, and he hung suspended above the roof lines of Washington, D.C. as the chopper began to skillfully weave it's way through the tall skyscrapers and national monuments. The chopper's side door opened, and a hand reached out to grab John and haul the half conscious man on board. John rolled onto the chopper's floor, and vomited, coughing out directions to Whang Kim's moored boat.

Suddenly, a very familiar voice sounded from the cockpit. "Oh, man, you just barfed on my chopper, Alex. Couldn't you keep it together just a few minutes longer?"

John raised his weary head up and looked through blurry eyes at his twin brother, Captain Chad Shelten in the cockpit. He shook his head slowly, as the stomach cramping begin again. He grabbed the young soldier's arm who had helped him into the helicopter and gasped out, "I'll just wait for the next taxi, private, ok?" Shelten roared, laughing, but he kicked up the engines a little faster as he glanced in the mirror and saw his brother lose out to the darkness.

The familiar incense swirled pleasantly around his head, and without opening his eyes, he knew he was safe in Kim's boat. He struggled to raise his head, but the room took a stomach wrenching swirl so he was satisfied again with just opening his eyes. There, her beautiful Asian face, concerned, swam into view and Casey couldn't help but smile at her.

"它已经太长，美丽的花。" [It has been too long, beautiful flower.] Casey whispered, and he and Kim's niece shared a long, and deep kiss. It was broken only by a woman's "humph" and when they drew back, who should be standing in the door frame, but not only Whang Kim, but General Beckman. Casey instantly struggled to stand up and at attention, but the General ordered him to be at ease.

"Major, when I said you were to take it easy, I did not realize it meant a vacation with Mr. Kim's niece." Beckman lips were stern, but the edges were threatening to turn up. She stepped into the room and sat down beside John's cot, her eyes swiftly assessing his wound, and the toll these past several weeks had taken on her best soldier. His eyes were sunken in his skull, and she noticed his weight loss as his ribs were more pronounced under his skin. The wound was taped shut, but she could tell Mr. Kim had once again did a great job in healing John of the poison Lenny had inflicted upon him.

"John, I wanted you to know we got the wire of the confession of Lenny's involvement with Decker, but I am afraid it is not enough to completely get the man into prison."

John sighed loudly, and closed his eyes, his heart sunken as the failure. But he felt the general's petite hand on his bare shoulder, and he opened them and looked at her.

"We have more information that we ever had on that snake Decker, John, and the higher up's are quite pleased with what you have done. We will be adding to Decker's confidential file, and someday, maybe next year, maybe ten years from now, he will do just one more thing, and he is a dead man. You did not fail your country, and you did not fail me. Understand, Major?"

"Yes, ma'am. May I ask you something, General?" John's recollection of his last confrontation with Lenny was flying through his memory.

"Certainly, John." She sat back and waited patiently.

"Something Carson Leonard said to me, before he went over the ledge." John rubbed his forehead, trying to clear the fuzzy cobwebs that filtered in and around the skirmish with Lenny.

"Yes?" the General asked again.

"Were he and I truly cousins?" John watched the truth skitter across his commanding officer's face, and she rose and walked deliberately to the door. When she turned toward him, she nodded.

"Your father, David, and Carson's father, Reuben were brothers."

"Then I am nothing but an assassin like Leonard." John mumbled soberly.

"No!" Beckman said emphatically. "One man brought death, one man brings life." She caught John's eye, and then winked, and turned and left the room.

Rodney Decker was below in the parking garage at the Central Intelligence Agency, unlocking his BMW's door when he felt the pistol in his back. A fowl smell hit his nostrils, and the cigar smoke only added to the nauseating of his stomach. The husky voice whispered in his ear: "Put your hands slowly in front of you on the car's roof." Decker tried to twist around but his arm was pulled back and up until his shoulder joint was almost dislocated, and his head slammed into the car's top.

"If you ever take another contract out on me, Decker, by using my own flesh and blood relative, I will kill you very, very slowly." Then, a filthy coat was wrapped around his head, and a cigar butt ground into the top of his right hand. The last thing Decker remembered was realizing that he was not being assaulted by Carson Leonard but by a very pissed off Marine Major, Johnathan Ryan Casey. And then the lights went out.

Please review dear friends. Love the comments. Vandevere, Cary, AwesomeChuck and others, you are the best. Will you help me be a better writer by reviewing? Danke!


	9. Chapter 9

The Colonel Vs. The Parson's Fight Chapter 9

Recap: Ten years later, Decker's file looks more like War and Peace, and his C.I.A. partner has been revealed to be the nephew of a notorious arms dealer Ho Ming. Team Bartwoski have been deep undercover to try and link the nephew with Ho Ming, but once again, the mission goes sideways when Chuck is captured and drugged.

_Colonel John Casey was moving rapidly, quietly up behind the Chinese weapons dealer, who currently had Chuck Bartowski, the Intersect, in a tight choke hold. The large Asian begin to press Chuck's neck, and the young man was gasping frantically, his feet flying out from under him, his hands trying to break Ling Ho's tight hold. Sarah Walker had her gun drawn, facing Ho, trying to get a head shot off. But her frustration was only magnified by the fact that Ho kept shifting his and Chuck's body, back and forth, his lips repeating over and over, "__這是一次報復。這是一次報復』__["This is the time for revenge. This is the time for revenge."] With his left arm, Ho reached out, and a 5 inch stiletto snapped out of his arm holster and he pressed it against Chuck's throbbing neck vein. Chuck tried desperately to flash on anything to help himself, but the tranquilizer Ho had used on him earlier was befuddling his mind, and the computer in it was refusing to reboot. Black spots were rapidly descending on Chuck's vision, and he mouthed carefully to Sarah, " I love you." His body slowly relaxed into Ho's arms, and the weight of the unconscious man pulled Ho's arm down enough that Sarah was ready. However, her eyes flicked just once toward Casey, and Ho dropped Chuck, whirled around and sent the stiletto flying through the air. Both Casey and Sarah fired, and the Chinese's head was blown to bits, blood and brain matter splattering over Chuck's still body. Sarah bent down to Chuck, and checked his pulse. It was then she spotted Casey, bent over, his right leg on the ground, his left bent, trying to lift his large body. John's face was completely white, and as he stared down, his left hand was around the hilt of the knife now buried in his upper abdomen. Blood was spewing from the wound, and he swayed like a half hewed tree, a mixture of deep pain and disbelief in his eyes._

_"Walker..." John moaned loudly, and rolled to his right side to the ground, his Sig Saur hitting the warehouse pavement with a loud clatter. He tried to reach out to Chuck, and he dragged himself slowly to check on his friend, and asset. Sarah was already on the cell calling 911, and she knelt down to stem the flow of Casey's blood, now joining the puddle rapidly growing from Ho's body. "Bartowski..." John reached once more out and felt for Chuck's pulse, but as he moved, his entire body shuddered. He pulled himself up in a ball, and whispered to Sarah..."poison. There's poison...I can taste it... Carson Leonard's con...coction..." He began to shake, and Sarah held his right hand tightly._

_"John, the aid car is coming. Hang in there. Chuck is okay. Don't worry. I won't leave you." Sarah was crying softly, as she watched the man she respected deeply, convulse again. Over and over, she muttered the words, trying to convince herself that Casey was all right. Suddenly, the Colonel arched back, his hands going to his chest, tearing at his shirt, as he gasped for breath._

_"Heart...feels like exploding...Dear God, Sarah...Tell Parson..." Another wave of pain clutched his body, his groans exploding into screams of pain. Sarah was frantically trying to listen for sirens, and each second that ticked by, she saw the Colonel writhing in agony. He pulled himself closer to her, and with one large breath, he groaned out, "Tell Annie...First Corine.." another spasm, he clutching his chest, "First Corinthians...Thirteen." His eyes rolled back into his head, and his hand fell from her blouse._

_"John? John? Dear God, don't die on me, Colonel." She bent over, ear pressed to his chest, but she heard no heartbeat. She touched his neck, searching for the familiar double beating, but it was not there. She begin CPR, pressing hard down on his heart, counting loudly the number of chest compressions, and breathing deeply into the Colonel's mouth. She only felt the paramedics had arrived when they literally had to tear her away from John, trying to convince her that they would take over. She crawled back to Chuck, and hands bloodied with AB negative blood, she begin to caress Chuck's face, astonished at the peaceful look he had. Once again the paramedics pulled her away to get information on both men. They had revived Casey with a defibrillator, but the erratic beeping on the heart monitor did nothing to calm her. Chuck was also loaded up in a second aide car, and the driver walked over to Sarah and asked, "Miss, where to?" He reached out to touch her, to try and get her out of the daze she seemed to be in, but she jerked away from his hand, her face confused._

_She saw his mouth talking, but she heard none of the words. Her mind was filled with Chuck, his frantic movements trying to get away from Ho. The bullets flying, and Ho's head exploding, and the sickening realization that her own hesitation to shoot Ho may have indeed cost the life of the best spy partner she ever had._

He lay on the hospital bed, his face as white as the sheet that lay smoothly across his massive chest, heart monitor leads zigzagging up from under his "one size fits all, but not him,"gown. A respirator was doing the job of breathing for him, and his eyes lids were tapped shut, the room bathed in soft light from the dimming ceiling lamp above his head. His left hand was currently being held by by a slight woman with auburn hair, which hid her lips moving in silent prayer. Tiny tear drops fell on his hand and she quickly, and lovingly wiped them away, still praying for healing for this man she was beginning to draw into her heart.

Pastor Annie Coburn had stayed day and night for that last week beside John's bed, praying for him, helping the nurses move him to prevent bed sores. At first the nurses were reluctant to have this woman help them, but whenever they wanted her to leave the room she refused gently but stubbornly, and they gave up the fight finally after the first 24 hours. They began to rely on her observations of his various unconscious grunts and groans, and even began to bring her from off hospital campus coffee, true, delicious, coffee from the coffee stand from down the street when they found out her love of Starbucks. Each nurse, each physician's assistant, even Casey's long time friend Carol, the physical therapist, begin to comment on the mental and emotional connection Annie and John had. But as Chuck and Sarah, Morgan and even the BuyMorians came by to visit, they all saw the toll John's delayed consciousness was taking on this woman of great faith.

The early spring day dawned brightly in Burbank at the N.S.A. Hospital and as always, Annie was already up, her teeth and hair brushed and a quick spit bath taken, and standing vigil at his bedside. But this day, John was restless, often his body jerking in a haphazard way, even mumbling words under his breath. Annie was thrilled, her heart anticipating him finally waking from his deep winter's slumber, but he did no such thing, sinking once more into a depth of coma akin to death. Chuck and Sarah stepped quietly in the room, and found Annie sobbing silently, her shoulders shaking from the emotion, her head down on the bed beside John's hand. Sarah surged ahead, and enveloped her new friend in a deep hug, drawing her away from John's bed.

"Pastor Annie, let Chuck seat with John for a few minutes. Let's go get some coffee, ok? I need to ask you some questions about what Casey told me before he..."Sarah stopped and Annie glanced up into her concerned eyes.

"Coffee sounds good, right about now, Sarah. Thank you." The two women left the room, and Chuck pulled the chair up to John's side and plopped down, easing his large frame forward and patting his handler on the nearest shoulder.

"Hey, big guy. You would be proud of me today. Sarah made me run 10 miles and I only pooped out at about seven...well, no, I better tell the truth with a pastor around...five. But still I got up this morning at 4 to do it, and when you get awaken up, I will challenge you to run from here to Echo Park and back. Hey, hey, betcha can't do it, buddy." He looked at the still figure of the man he come to admire and to love, but there was no grunts, no movement, just the rhythmic whooshing of the machine. He didn't let the sound bother him, too much, and he began his daily platter with John, filling him in on the details of the current investigation into Decker, and his shady dealings under the C.I.A.'s jurisdiction.

"You would be surprised at the General, John. She told me she had your files on Decker uploaded into the Intersect, and we have found some loopholes that we can use to bring that creep to justice. I only wish you could be there John, to see his face when we finally arrest the s.o.b. And lock him away into the bunker the C.I.A. had fixed for me. Yep, can't wait. Now, you need to know that Lester and Jeff are doing to your large appliance department..."

The two women walked slowly across the the street in front of the hospital and down the block to the coffee shop. The brisk air felt so good the Annie, and she squeezed Sarah's hand in appreciation. "Thank you again, Sarah, for bringing me out here." Sarah looked at her with a question on her face."I had forgotten there is still the world revolving around outside John's room, with fresh air, and beautiful California sunshine." Annie stopped in front of the coffee shop, her face turned up to soak up the light from above, and she took a deep breath in, and then coughed at the ever present L.A. smog. "Well, maybe almost fresh air." The two women giggled, went in, ordered their coffee and a large, warm cinnamon roll to split, and sat down. Sarah began to regale Annie with stories from the Buy More and the two morons known as Lester and Jeff, but when they were finished with their roll, Annie smiled and touched Sarah's hand again.

"Thank you, dearest Sarah. I know now why Chuck loves you so much. My spirits are lifted up, my waist line is expanded, my blood sugar is through the roof, and my caffeine level is wonderful, so what were you going to tell me?" Annie sat back, and sipped her coffee, her dark, brown eyes sparkling at the agent who loved her friend John as much as she did.

"When John was stabbed, Annie, he said something to me that I don't understand." Sarah spoke quietly and seriously, leaning forward to speak directly to the pastor. Annie only remained silent, but her body language was relaxed and open so Sarah continued.

"He first told me that the poison..."Annie flinched at the word, but Sarah continued, knowing this strong woman could handle it. "The poison was a variety an old enemy used. We were able to get a anti-toxin ready at the hospital for John, and that is why he is not dead." Sarah gulped, and looked down at her hands that were currently clasped very tight. Annie reached over and unclasped them, stroking them for a good measure to quiet down Sarah's nervousness.

"I can't get over the fact that if I had reacted faster, John never would had been stabbed, and never would be in the coma he is in now. It's my fault, Annie, he's there." Sarah drew in a gasp of breath, and her hands shook slightly. Annie took them again in her hands, and she looked deep into the agent's face.

"Sarah, I want you to know that Diane told me that if it wasn't for the information you were able to provide to the e.m.t.s even at the site of John's assault, he would not be alive. She said you kept his heart going, even after he died..." Annie cleared her throat as she said the word, but continued, "your hands, his blood, your life you gave him. Do you not know that God picked you to save my John? And I shall always be grateful for you giving me back a man that I am totally in lust with." Sarah gasped and looked at Annie, and in spite of their tears, they both laughed. "Did I ever tell you that I once say John in his birthday suit, as I was cleaning him up at the cabin. Wow, what a man!" The two women giggled loudly again, and the entire coffee shop looked over to them.

"SSSSSHHHH, we have got to get under control here, dear woman." Annie laughed and then she spoke quietly, "John also said something to you you didn't understand?"

Sarah nodded slowly, as the horrible replay of that day flashed through her memory. She tried to let go of the guilt, and finally, finding some peace, she spoke, "He said to tell you First Corinthians 13. What's that?"

Annie went white, and her hand went up to her mouth, tears pouring out of her eyes. At first, Sarah thought she had upset the gentle pastor, but when Annie removed her hand, there was a brilliant smile. Annie snagged her purse and pulled out a small New Testament, well used by the looks of it. She turned to the passage quickly, and then passed it to Sarah to read, who began to read the beautiful centuries old love poem:

"_If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love._

_Love never gives up.  
>Love cares more for others than for self.<br>Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.  
>Love doesn't strut,<br>Doesn't have a swelled head,  
>Doesn't force itself on others,<br>Isn't always "me first,"  
>Doesn't fly off the handle,<br>Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,  
>Doesn't revel when others grovel,<br>Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,  
>Puts up with anything,<br>Trusts God always,  
>Always looks for the best,<br>Never looks back,  
>But keeps going to the end. <em>

_Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled. _

_When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good. We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! _

_But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."*_

Sarah was touched by the ancient words, and she snorted a little when Annie told her that John had located the New Testament she was holding and read to her on their first date. She imagined her tough, shoot first, ask questions later, cigar smoking, Johnny Walker drinking partner reading gently the poem to this pastor friend, long before he could speak the words of love he was beginning to feel. It was a different side of Casey she had never seen, and she laughed at the mental image.

"Now you can see how wonderful this is for me, Sarah. Tough as nails Marine Corps Major is beginning to fall for a rural community pastor of no real significance." Annie grinned, but Sarah stopped her, and corrected her,

"Pastor Annie, if you can teach my partner how to love you and the God you serve, you are not a nothing in my book." Sarah smiled widely and then her body poster went rigged, as she glanced at the front door of the coffee shop. Annie turned and watched two men in dark glasses and suits enter the shop. They stopped when they spied Sarah, but only nodded once curtly and sat down at the other end of the shop.

"Oh, dear God, what is he doing here?" Sarah muttered, and Annie was amazed to see the quick transition from lady friend into cold agent.

"Who is that, Sarah?"

"Someone who is ultimately responsible for letting John lay there at the hospital so long." Sarah rose slowly, her teeth grinding and stomped over to the two men. Annie watched and then she went and reordered a double shot decaf skinny milk latte with sugar free almond nice and extra hot to go.

By the time she had joined the threesome, both men had discarded their sunglasses, and one of the men had stood up and was nose to nose with Sarah, whispering dangerously to her. Annie walked up confidently, and touched Sarah's shoulder.

"Sarah, honey," Annie drawled out the words slowly, and she saw the man's dangerous eyes shift her direction and then dismissed her as some kind of putz. "Why you keeping these two gorgeous men from me, dahling? Hi there, my name is Annie Sue Macahaney, and are you married and if not, can we go for a date? Or heck, even if you are, I would love to get to know you two so very well." She spread the charm on thickly and saw the man's pupils open up in lust, and he grinned in spite of himself.

"Well, Annie Sue, I'm Rodney and I would love to spend time with a charming woman like you, but Ms. Walker and I have some more business to discuss." He dismissed Annie with a wave of her hand, and Sarah turned abruptly, muttering, "Annie Sue, let's get out of here before the stench smothers me."

When Sarah turned around, she bumped Annie, and Annie's double decaf skinny milk with sugar free almond extra hot latte went spewing right over Rodney's dress shirt, and down to his crotch. He danced ridiculously, ordering his partner to try and get some napkins, and keeping Annie Sue's hands away from his body. He swore loudly, and several of the customers had to put their hands over their children's ears. "Annie Sue kept apologizing and patting him down, and without him knowing it, she had lifted his pistol, and stuffed extra napkins down the front of his slacks. He only stopped when he felt the tip of his own pistol in his gut, and he looked down at the flaring dark brown eyes of a woman bent on wrath.

"You ever again touch my man, John Casey, with anything again, I personally will see you put away for a very long time, capice?" Her voice was low, and she added a Casey growl to it. She expertly kept the safety off the gun and stuffed that down his pants front too. "Move carefully, Rodney, or you might just loose the family jewels."

Rev. Annie Coburn twirled around and stomped out of the shop, head held high, and grabbed the hand of expert C.I.A. Agent Sarah Walker. The two women skipped back over to the hospital and once inside the safety of the building they busted up in laughter, Annie also shaking with the adrenaline rush she just had experienced.

As they punched the elevator button to John's floor, Annie sank against the wall. "Dear Lord Jesus, if that is what being a spy is like, I think I will leave that up to you, John and Chuck, and go back to preaching. Man, that is a rush, though." Sarah laughed again at the woman who had just gone notched higher on Walker's respect meter wipe the tears from her eyes.

As they exited the elevator, Chuck came flying out of John's room and grabbed Annie.

"He's awake and asking for you, Pastor. Hurry up." The three of them surged into the room, and Annie gasped as the head of the man she loved slowly turned to her, his eyes freed from the tape, now even a brighter blue. The nurse was pulling the respirator tube out of him, and Annie grabbed his hand as he gagged and winced at the horrific pain the withdrawal of the tube caused. A few tears left his eyes, but he sought her out, and carefully lifted her hand to his lips. He croaked out the words..."Beloved..." and Annie, now crying openly rushed to grab some ice chips and put them in his mouth.

"Slowly, beloved, slowly." She cautioned him, and he rolled his eyes at her, and then tried to smile at little at Chuck and Sarah. "Already nagging..." he gasped and then coughed violently. Chuck rushed up and helped the nurse roll him over to his side, and the deep hacks eased off. Sarah braced John's back with pillows, and adjusted the sheet over his bare backside.

John still did not let go of Annie's hand, and he kept rubbing it gently with his thumb. "How, what...made you wake up, John?" Annie asked.

"Me. I kept talking so much he needed to wake up to shut me up." Chuck said proudly, as Sarah hugged him. John only grunted in agreement and kissed Annie's hand again.

"John, I must tell you what Annie did to Decker just now at the coffee shop." Sarah laughed but John and Annie were in their own world, and Chuck and Sarah crept out to update the General.

"Decker, huh?" John hoarsely whispered, trying to fight his eyes closing on him.

"One extra hot non fat latte in his lap, and one loaded pistol down his pants." Annie said rather satisfactorily. John's large frame begin to shake and for a moment, Annie was frightened, but then the shaking bubbled up to the surface, and John was actually laughing, deep laughing from his toes up. However, he grimaced and then settled down.

"Wish I could have seen..." he yawned deeply, and then asked for the very first time, of many times to come in their lifetime together, "stay with me, Parson?"

Annie leaned over and kissed the sweet lips of her man. "Always, beloved, always."

The End and the beginning.

The scripture used is from Eugene Petersen's The Message, published by W. Eerdman Publishing Co.

Time for reviews dear friends. I did repost chapter 1 with a few changes to use that to bring us up to date. We will have to see season five to see how Decker finally gets it, and I hope it will be our John Casey who is the Angel of Justice. Thank you again for traveling with me. I think I will be revisiting the rebuilding of Annie's church lost in arson fire in the Colonel Vs. The Boogie Man. Need to bring the four brothers together to build: David Dixon, Stargate SGI, John Casey, Chad Shelten, Daybreak, and Jayne Cobb, Firefly. Have a delightful week!


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